


It Starts with a Bang

by Aki_Rain



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Alternate Universe - Politics, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Christmas Party, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Holiday Fic Exchange, House Party, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Multi, Non-Graphic Violence, Panic Attacks, Party, Solstice, Winter Solstice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:49:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28313349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aki_Rain/pseuds/Aki_Rain
Summary: This is a first time gift fic, so, I hope I've done the prompt justice.I will admit it got away from me here and there and threatens to morph and grow into a larger monstrosity, but: all in all, I am fairly proud of my child here.Special thanks go to the moderators and hosts who organized this whole shindig as well as my lovely beta who caught many of my absentee, wayward commas and their ilk.I do hope y'all enjoy!
Relationships: Elyan/Gwaine/Percival (Merlin), Gwen/Lancelot (Merlin), Leon/Mordred (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 25
Collections: Round Table Gift Exchange 2020





	It Starts with a Bang

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MapleBreeze](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MapleBreeze/gifts).



> A lovely friend I'm glad to know. I do hope you enjoy this and that it fulfills your expectations! <3 merry, merry~

It happened, finally, at a party.

Yet another painstakingly crafted party thrown by Morgana—emphasis on the _pain_ —at her apartment; this one to celebrate the winter solstice. Arthur raised his glass to hide how he pursed his lips.

Ever since she had connected with her disturbing, long-lost discovered sister, Morgause, Morgana had turned to the dark side. She called it ‘embracing her roots,’ buying crystals in bulk and chanting weird, made-up-sounding dead languages under her breath during suspicious moments when she thought know one was watching. Arthur called it ‘finally embracing the cliché she had turned into during her rebellious teenage years, acting out against their father, Uther.’

She didn’t even have to stop painting her nails bloody red. Morgana was practical.

Arthur's eyes flitted over the room. It was supposed to be a semi-casual affair; only close and personal friends to share the event and welcome in the new year with, Morgana insisted—which explained why the whole goth club was there, all the ‘M’s: Morgana, Morgause, Mordred.

And: Merlin.

Arthur ducked his head sharply to stare beguilingly at a potted plant off to the side before their eyes made contact. He could feel Merlin’s gaze on the side of his face, watching him; he could even picture the way his eyes would narrow and his mouth would tilt in detached amusement.

Ever since that first run-in, Arthur had been steadfastly avoiding Merlin, going through great pains, both metaphorical _and_ literal since that time he rammed his shin on the table leg trying to escape, to evade any chance of interacting in public with the long, lean embodiment of sex personified that he could take, because he knew: it would all be over for him once his reaction to Merlin was discovered.

Arthur was aware he had to make doubly sure Morgana would _never_ find out. Her motley crew of vampire-cast hues—Morgause was strangely the creepy exception to this rule—were thick as thieves, all of them constantly operating on a wavelength no one else could touch, and communicating via astral waves or some such Arthur wasn’t all that interested to find out about.

Gwen touched his arm in soft amusement. “You’ve been distracted all evening. Is everything alright with work?”  
  
Arthur grimaced. He knew she didn’t mean to imply anything, but that she automatically assumed work would be the only reason for his preoccupation still stung a little. “Everything’s fine, Gwen,” Arthur reassured her.

“So, it doesn’t have anything to do with Merlin over there?” Gwen asked archly, gesturing with her champagne glass. Arthur didn’t even bother looking; he could still feel Merlin’s storm blue eyes heating the side of his face. He quickly took a swig of his own mug of mead.

“I have no idea what you are talking about; how is Lancelot, by the way?” Arthur raised his eyebrows. Gwen smacked him lightly.

“Shhh!” Her eyes flickered like shutters back and forth. “We’re still keeping that quiet; I want to tell Morgana myself.”

“Gwen,” Arthur frowned. “It’s been months; almost half a year.”

“I want to tell Morgana myself in my own time.” Gwen winced. “She’s been busy with her other friends—”

“With her cult, you mean.”

“Arthur!” She smacked him again. “Don’t call it a cult! Honestly!”

Arthur smiled as she laughed lightly before growing more serious.

“You should tell her soon, Gwen.” His voice was soft as he leaned in a bit.

“I know, but…”

“It’s the Solstice; dawn of a new age or something, right? Like New Year’s; perfect time for new beginnings and resolutions.”

“I...”

“No time like the present?” Arthur tried. 

Gwen’s face grew determined. “No. You’re right. I’ll tell her now; here, take this.” She pushed her glass into Arthur’s hands and strode off, only slightly wobbly with nerves.

“Morgana already knows.”

Arthur startled and spilled alcohol on both his sleeves, turning to find a calm and composed Merlin raising an eyebrow at him, eyes sparkling with mirth. Arthur quickly used the excuse of nyooming towards the buffet table for napkins to mop up the mess to try and avoid the magnetic pull of Merlin’s orbit.

It didn’t work.

Merlin followed along, still calm, his long, lean legs loping sedately alongside Arthur’s fawn-like prancing.

“I do apologize; I didn’t mean to startle you.” Arthur muttered placating murmurs, trying in vain to focus on dabbing the wet spots on his sleeves and avoid knocking over the glass and mug he’d just set down. “I seem to recall someone saying that it was impossible given his warrior-like reflexes?”

And there went the eyebrow again; Arthur didn’t need to look to physically feel it rise. It was unfair, he mused to himself halfheartedly, fingers slowing, that Merlin was so successful in picking up that particular trait from Uncle Gaius.

A squeal of a commotion made them both glance up at Morgana enthusiastically hugging Gwen. A careful sweep located a blushing, but pleased Lance, standing in a circle with Elyan and Percival; their third, Gwaine, was already en route to crash hug into Lance, yelling congratulations and exclamations of _“I knew it! I fucking knew it!”_

Arthur's eyes sharpened. _Where was Leon?_

“Oh. I see Mordred’s finally made his move.” 

Arthur's head whipped to Merlin and then followed his line of sight just in time to see Leon’s ginger hair disappear around the corridor corner. “ _Seriously?!_ ” Arthur brayed out.

“What. Not happy your best mate’s choosing to get down and dirty with a two-bit street peddler?” Merlin mused.

The sharp edge had Arthur grimacing all over again. Yet another conversation with Merlin gone awry when his anxiety spiked and his nerves had him lashing out defensively.

For all that Uther was mind set, dug deep in the trenches against anyone who wasn’t like him—white, Anglo-Saxon, Christian, wealthy—Arthur didn’t much care what other people did or practiced. As long as it didn’t affect his ability to _breathe, Morgana, that is too much incense for anyone to burn in their foyer_ , and didn’t actively harm anyone, Arthur saw no reason why he should police others. 

It was far too much unnecessary work and headache-inducing madness to bull-doggedly strongarm everyone into conformity.

Merlin’s inclusion in Morgana’s circle, however, made it easy for his brain to latch onto something to say that would get Merlin away from his immediate vicinity so he could breathe calmly without his traitorous heart constantly breaking into butterfly flutters.

“No, Merlin. Simply standing by the fact that Leon could do infinitely better than someone with Mordred’s history.” Arthur turned to throw the damp napkins in the trash and make his escape before things could escalate worse.

No such luck.

“ _Mordred_ ,” Merlin seethed, keeping up with Arthur beating a hasty retreat to the kitchen, “ _was_ **_acquitted_ ** _of those charges—_ ”

“And yet, _still_ hanging around with that Kara character,” Arthur growled, opening cabinet doors randomly.

“And _isn’t responsible_ for the inciting of those riots, nor the violence that occurred,” Merlin finished.

“Are you saying that because _you_ are?” Arthur turned sharply into Merlin’s space, then froze.

He watched, helplessly, as the lines of hurt cracked along the fractal patterning in Merlin’s eyes. He’d gone completely white, his lips disappearing from where he was aggressively pressing his mouth closed. Arthur was already socking himself in the face, metaphorically, heart sinking in dismay while Merlin strode out of the kitchen.

Arthur's knees buckled and he used the counter to slowly guide himself into the hidden nook located between the pantry and the near wall, shielded from the doorway’s line of sight by a rack of shelved books with hanging pots and pans.

Most footage of that protest was shaky; too many people running away for their lives, too much chaos separating people. What was clear was that someone from deep in the crowd had thrown an incendiary bomb at the police, and the violence only escalated from there. 

Arthur’s own memories were the same; mostly a jumble of sprinting with a stitch in his side and ears ringing from screams, trying to get milk out to those closest, and then the next and the next.

He covered his head with his hands, pushing it down between his knees while he forcibly relegated his breathing.

Not even Morgana knew Arthur had been there, with her in the crowd. He’d wanted to support Bohrs, who was still nervous about broadcasting his sexuality in public, but wanted to visibly object to the new referendums the government was proposing.

No one knew who the person was who had thrown the bomb; the uptight group Uther was a part of supporting the referendums loudly and vocally claimed it was a witch, based on a crude symbol found intact on shrapnel from the wreckage. 

Arthur personally thought it was a plant, in his own quiet reflections.

Throwing that accusation in Merlin’s face, however, was …

Arthur shook his head, pressing himself firmly against the surrounding hard surfaces to still the tremors.

~*~

“Arthur, Arthur, Arthur, Arthur,” a measured voice spoke. In time with the repetitions of his name were soft taps and a light touch, there and gone, against his arm. Lifting his head, Arthur blinked stars and tears groggily out of his eyes to lock onto Leon’s face.

“No, don’t try to speak,” Leon cautioned, worried eyes monitoring Arthur. “What are four things you hear?”

Arthur closed his eyes and rubbed his face. “You. My brain pounding in my head, the fridge, and Morgana,” he answered dutifully, coming to.

“Three things you see?”

“Your ridiculous face,” Arthur grumbled, casting about, eyebrows climbing when they settled over Leon’s shoulder. “Mordred and Merlin behind you.”

“Good. Now Two things you feel?”

“Confused?” Arthur blinked. “The wall and counter digging into my back; why are you here?”

“You mean aside from the distressed whale noise you made?” Mordred asked sarcastically. Leon turned to frown at him.

“Not helping.” He swiveled quickly back round to Arthur. “You weren’t making any audible noise from outside the kitchen.” Arthur relaxed from his suddenly tense grip. “But, you were putting off some distressing waves that Mordred and Merlin picked up on.”

“ _Waves_ ,” Arthur scoffed weakly, rubbing his face roughly with both hands this time.

“Yes.” Leon gently grabbed Arthur's wrists and pulled them away from his face. “Waves. They both sensed something was off and pulled me along when Merlin said you were the last person seen in here.”

Arthur gestured with his shoulder, letting Leon keep his hands, “And I suppose Morgana is—”

“Morgana is keeping the others entertained far from here, while we sort you out,” Merlin frowned, coming closer. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” Arthur dismissed, shrugging while his eyes shifted left past Leon.

“Arthur—”

“Was it another flashback?” Leon asked softly.

Both Ms turned confused faces towards him.

Arthur sighed. “Yes.” He really couldn’t hide anything from Leon; to be completely honest, he’d stopped trying way back when there were still wee lads, fresh out of school.

“Uther or other?” Leon continued softly.

“Other.” Arthur closed his eyes. “But: Uther related.”

“The protest, then,” Leon concluded thoughtfully. Mordred’s and Merlin’s faces turned shocked back onto Arthur.

“It was my own fault.” Arthur kept his eyes closed. “I brought it up in conversation—”

“And were launched back into a memory of it.” Arthur nodded.

“You were there?!” Merlin stepped closer.

Arthur shrugged again, weakly. “Was supporting a friend.”

“And your father, no doubt,” Mordred sneered, only to jump slightly as Leon’s sharp voice hit him.

“ _Against_ his father, _actually_.”

“Leon, don’t.” Arthur opened his eyes to Leon’s scrunched up face.

“I don’t know why—”

“You know _exactly_ why.”

“You insist on keeping up this pretense—”

“It’s _safer_.”

“When it’s not like he doesn’t already know, anyway!” Leon burst out.

Arthur sighed and took back his hands, finally. “He may have his suspicions but until it is tangentially confirmed, he can’t move against me.”

Mordred raised his hand. “Okay. I admit it. I’m lost.”

“Arthur is covering for Morgana”—“LEON!”—“and keeping Uther from just disinheriting them both by outwardly not opposing him so the press doesn’t get hold of it.”

Arthur angrily started trying to extricate himself from the cubbyhole while Leon stood up to face the other two challengingly.

Merlin frowned thoughtfully. “Why doesn’t he just let him?”

“Besides the media mess and Uther’s tantrum when my inclinations come out, he’s still withholding some of my mother’s stuff she left for me as well as Morgana’s trust fund.” Arthur was finally standing up, leaning against the counter and shaking out his hands.

“Which she doesn’t know about.” Mordred narrowed his eyes. 

Arthur scoffed, then smiled slightly. “And what do you think she’d do once she finds out?” he asked them.

Merlin cocked his head to the side. “Storm into Uther’s office and get into a screaming match demanding it from him.”

Arthur nodded ruefully. “Exactly.”

“And why do you have to hide?” Merlin inquired.

“ _What_ do you have to hide?” Mordred corrected.

“If Arthur, as Uther’s only acknowledged child, was revealed to be gay and pro-magic, it would cause a cascade of supporters and investors to back out of Uther’s company.”

“And ruin countless jobs in the process,” Arthur shrugged.

“So, _that’s_ why you keep brushing me off and threatening me.” Merlin grinned triumphantly.

“Wha—no! What?!” Arthur stared at him.

“And… I think that’s our cue to go. Mordred, I’ll explain further later, in the car.” Leon started pushing his lover out of the kitchen, pausing at the entryway. “You gonna be fine, Arthur?”

“He’ll be fine,” Merlin called back, still grinning at Arthur.

“I will not—! I have no idea what you’re talking about, _Mer_ lin, and, anyway, you don’t speak for me!” As Merlin stalked closer and closer, Arthur grew more and more flustered.

His bum hit the counter edge and pressed in uncomfortably.

“Maybe I can help?” Merlin suggested silkily.

Arthur gulped. “H-help with what?”

“Help you out with your predicament.” He closed in.

**Author's Note:**

> I tried my best to cover all the bases w/ my tags, but I am still quite new at this so if I missed something or got something wrong, don't hesitate to comment below!


End file.
